


That's the kinda love I've been dreaming of

by our_lady_of_the_trees



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Eliot and Julia are queerplatonic, F/F, Julia's a goddess no matter what Penny23's dumbass choice was, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, because FUCK THAT, the scene in 4x13 with Julia and the cards didn't happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 21:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18677992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/our_lady_of_the_trees/pseuds/our_lady_of_the_trees
Summary: Julia and Eliot are getting their nerd king back. No matter what it takes.





	That's the kinda love I've been dreaming of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one little thing before we get started: i have NO idea how the bone-knitting spell works, so forgive me if its not correct

Four days.

That was how long it had been since Quentin died.

Nothing felt the same. Nothing would ever feel the same. Not without Q.

Everyone had been coping in their own way.

Kady had been distracting herself with the Hedges. She always got back to the apartment late at night, and always left the apartment early in the morning. That is, if she came back at all.

Margo’s focus was on Fillory. She spent most of her days sitting in the Brakebills library, poring over books about time travel, specifically how to go back in time. She was worried about Josh--and Fen--and even if there was a supposed “Dark Prince” in power now, she still wanted to get her motherfuckin’ kingdom back.

Penny was just...Traveling. Randomly. Some days, he didn’t even come home, spending most of the time out traveling the universe. He told Julia, one evening, it was because he wanted to see how this timeline turned out. Back in Timeline 23, everyone he knew was dead, or dying, or gone. He just wanted to see what made life different here, what made it better and worth living more.

Alice had been at the Library ever since Sheila found her, not yet having come back to Earth. What else was there to do? Quentin had died, and, although reluctant to give up on him, had decided to tear her mind away from that presently. It hurt too much to think about, and she had work to do.

Julia was in bed for the majority of the four days. She’d gotten up once, in the middle of the night, to get some crackers, and then went back to bed, hardly making a sound. Her world felt empty, and quite silent without her best friend. She thought she would just lay around, possibly, and mourn him for eternity. She didn’t care. How could she? The one person she loved the most was gone.

Eliot’s focus, however? How to get Quentin back. Quentin and Julia had gone to the Underworld once, right? He could do it, too. He’d hardly eaten. He hadn’t slept, at all, even though Professor Lipson had recommended both. He had dark bags under his eyes, which were completely devoid of emotion as he pored over books. He never once left his spot on the couch, completely surrounded by tall stacks of books. It was quite obvious he was avoiding most everyone else as well, all except Margo, who tried constantly to check up on him, read about time travel beside him as he read about the Underworld, but to no avail. 

On the fifth day of silence, being alone; the fifth day without Quentin, Julia finally left her room. She--surprisingly--looked completely healthy, seeing as she hadn’t eaten but a handful of crackers and a few glasses of water. She silently walked over to Eliot, sitting down next to him, in the only spot not covered with books, the one often reserved for Margo. He looked up. 

“Hey,” said the tall man, his voice cracking with disuse. He set his book on the coffee table for the first time in days, and stretched.

“Hi,” mumbled Julia. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering slightly. She looked around at Eliot’s collection of books. “What are you doing?” she asked quietly, frowning slightly.

“Getting Quentin back,” Eliot replied simply, as if he were doing something as mundane as washing the dishes or folding laundry.

Julia looked at him, hesitantly. “Eliot…” she starts, her eyes sad.

“No, listen to me,” he said sharply, looking back up at her. “I’m getting him back, Jules. You and him went to the Underworld and retrieved Alice’s Shade. How hard could it be to get his entire soul and put it into a new body?”

Julia sighed sadly. “Harder than you think.”

“Harder than dealing with a fairy queen breathing down your neck? Harder than getting rid of a homicidal magician that ripped out Fogg’s eyes? Harder than killing a trickster god?” He asked, glaring at her. He stood up and walked to the window, needing a moment to clear his mind, and accidentally knocked a few books off the couch. They clattered to the floor, pages pressing up against the hardwood. “I’m not fucking giving up yet! I can’t! I lived out an entire fucking life with that man, and when he asked me to do it again, I said no! Like a fucking coward! I promised myself I was going to tell him how I really feel when I got back. I’m not breaking that promise just because he died. We’ve fucking dealt with death before, we can fucking do it again.”

Julia went still, looking at Eliot with a kind of melancholy admiration. She took a deep breath. “You’re right.”

Eliot turned back around to look at her. “What?”

“You’re right. We’re getting Quentin back,” She answered resolutely, her face set with stony determination. “And I think I might have an idea how.”

\-----

Two hours later, Eliot and Julia are standing a few feet apart in the middle of the apartment, having moved the furniture and rug off to the side. Between them, on the floor, was a lump of Living Clay, some white candles, a roll of paper with a spell written on it, and a bag of questionable-looking white powder.

Eliot dusted his hands off on his pants and straightened his vest. “So… Are you going to tell me what the plan is, or do I have to guess based off of the vague context clues I’ve been given?”

Julia smiled softly at him. “Bone-knitting can be sped up exponentially with Living Clay. I had to make a few adjustments to the spell to add in the Living Clay as a factor, but…” she trailed off as she bent down and picked up the parchment. 

Eliot looked at Julia, and his eyes widened a bit. “You...rewrote part of the bone-knitting spell, arguably one of the most difficult healing spells in the world?”

Julia looks up at him. “...Yeah? Is that bad?”

Eliot stared at her, motionless. She stared right back, unwavering. “Did Dean Fogg ever get a chance to tell you your discipline?”

“Meta-composition.”

Eliot laughed, really smiling for the first time in months. “Of-fucking-course you’re a Knowledge kid.”

Julia smiled mischievously. “Anyways. Shall we get started? I still can’t fucking do magic, so… You’ll have to do it.” Eliot nodded, smiling a little. Julia bent down and opened the bag of powder, pouring it out into a pile on the floor. She arranged the 6 white candles around the pile, then stood up, shoving the baggie in her back pocket and dusting her hands off. 

“Light the candles,” she instructed, looking at the parchment as Eliot did what she said with a snap. “Then...Just- here,” she said, stepping over to stand next to the man. She held the parchment out in front of him so he could see it too. “Start with Popper 29, then…”

\-----

An hour later, the pile of white powder had shaped itself into a vague spine-looking shape, which was slowly knitting itself together. Eliot dropped his hands, causing the candles to blow out, and flopped down to sit on the floor, rubbing his hands on his thighs. “That was...the most tedious thing I’ve ever done,” he said with a chuckle. He looked up at Julia, “...But, knowing what it’s for, I’d do it a thousand times.”

Julia smiled softly. “We’ll have to check on it every couple hours, but for now we should put it somewhere it won’t be disturbed too much…” She trailed off, her small smile gaining a mischievous edge. She walked over and gently picked the spine up. She went over to the stairs and headed up to the second level of the penthouse as Eliot looked on in confusion.

She came back downstairs again after a minute or so, and not a moment to soon, as the front door opened. Julia turned towards it.

Margo walked in, arms laden with groceries, and she pushed the door shut with her foot. She turned around and focused on Julia, her face softening; she was glad to see Julia out of her room and moving about. She set the groceries down on the kitchen counter.

“Jules, it’s so good to see you out of bed,” Margo said with a light ring in her voice, excited yet gentle, smiling as she walked toward Julia before wrapping her in a hug. She looked over at Eliot, the grin on her face growing. “And you’re finally not covered in books, El.” She released Julia and went over to Eliot, hugging him as well. She took a step back after a moment, and seemed to recollect herself and realize that the living room was completely torn apart.

“...What the hell have you two been doing?” she asked, and Julia and Eliot shared a look.

“Nothing you need to worry about right now, Bambi, my dear,” replied Eliot. 

Margo glared at him slightly, then turning her confusion back into a calm smile again. “I’m just glad to see you both up and doing stuff. I’m gonna go get changed.” She turned on her heel, walking to the stairs, and went up, her high heels clacking against the steps. Julia turned to look at Eliot, a look of unknown upon her face; she knew something was coming, and all Eliot could do was wait for whatever it was.

After a moment, silent and distant, Margo came back into view at the edge of the balcony. In her hands she held the spine. She looked down at Eliot and Julia, her face wide and full of shock, confusion, and all the other words to describe her perplexed brows, outlining her growing eyes. “Anybody care to tell me who’s spine this is?” she yelled down, her lips pursed in the sassy-like way.

Eliot looked toward Julia, then back up at Margo. “It’s for Q.”

Margo’s face immediately softened. “...Oh.” She paused for a moment, then came down the stairs, carefully setting the spine down on the counter, and pulled them both into a gentle hug once more. There weren’t words to be said, they all missed Quentin more than anything in the world. He was the one that brought them all together, how could they ever forget that? They, in turn, wrap their arms around her, Eliot seeming to shrink down a little, bending his knees. They stand together like that for a few minutes, it felt, and then Margo pulled away.

“If anyone can get our nerd king back, it’s you two,” she leaned up to kiss Eliot on the cheek, then looked to her left, her heart giving, and pressed quick peck on Julia’s lips and walked over to the kitchen to unpack the groceries.

\-----

Night fell fast, midnight encroached on the penthouse, and everyone had gone off to bed. Except for Julia. She was sitting on the floor by the fireplace. She had Q’s now mostly-formed skeleton on the floor in front of her, the large lump of Living Clay on the floor beside her. She was absentmindedly adding chunks of clay to the skeleton, which was now growing flesh. As she stared at the flickering orange tongues of flame, she added the last of the clay, slowly and almost unsure, wondering if this would even work at all, if by some extreme miracle, just waiting as time passed around her.

She stood up and walked over to the newly-restored living area, climbing over the couch and to the coffee table. She picked up something off the table. A pack of cards.

She let out a choked sob as she opened the pack and slid the cards out into her hand. She looked down at the cards, sitting on the couch, tears welling in her eyes. On the cards, which had been custom made, were the faces of all their friends. Quentin, Julia, Eliot, Margo, Alice, everyone else. It only made the tears want to fall faster; he’d done so much for all of them, and this only felt right to Julia. If Quentin was willing to do the most to get people back from the Underworld, from being possessed, shouldn’t Julia do the same to bring him back? Yes, and she was doing it right now.

As if sensing Julia’s spiked emotions, Eliot left his lonely bedroom and came out into the living room, wrapped in his fluffy bathrobe and leaning heavily on his cane. “Jules?” he asked groggily, in a low whisper.

She looked over at him, her face now illuminated by the fire. Tears were flowing freely down her face, and her bottom lip quivered as she sniffled. Goddesses weren’t known for their emotions, but Julia was different from them; she started human, she became a goddess, a creation that manifested within her. This was her path to choose, and she would do it in a way that combined both the best parts of her.

He strode over to the couch, his eyebrows knitting together. He--as quickly as he could--walked around the couch, and sat down next to her. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked quietly, concern painted across his face. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, to comfort her, and also steady himself. He thought the same: what if this doesn’t work? What if there really is no way to get Quentin back?

“El-” she started, her voice cracking as she held up the cards, showing him the custom designs. Quentin must’ve gotten these done sometime during his first year at Brakebills. His heart ached, and he thought back to the first day he met Quentin. While Eliot reminisced, staring at nothing in particular, Julia carried on. “Wh- What if it doesn’t work? What if all of this-,” she cried, in between sobs. “What- What if it’s all for nothing, and- and we can’t save him?”

Eliot put his arms around the shaking woman, pulling her close. “This is going to work, Julia. I promise you. If I have to go up to Hades Himself and force him to give us Q, then that’s what I’ll do. I’m not giving up on him, you know that. He didn’t give up on me. He didn’t give up on us, Julia.” He paused, swallowing thickly. “We have to try. For him.”

Julia sniffed once, then nodded weakly. She leaned into the tall man’s chest, curling her hands against him. He softly pet her head--her hair like silk beneath his fingers--mumbling calming nothings into her hair. Julia leaned forward slightly, and tossed the cards onto the table. Eliot was immediately alerted by a short gasp from Julia.

“El-Eliot, look,” she whispered.

He turned his head, confused, and froze in place when, before him, he sees what she was directing her attention to.

The deck of cards had scattered into the air and was floating there, drifting ever-so-slightly. The two friends glance at each other for a moment.

“Are...Are you doing this?” Julia asked, awestruck.

Eliot said nothing in reply, but shook his head, looking up at the cards, which were suspended in midair by seemingly nothing. It was as if time had paused altogether.

Julia slowly lifted her hand and moved it in a slow, circular motion. The cards slowly start to spin, a quiet fluttering noise filling the room. Her pained expression morphed into a grin, invigorated by the power flowing from her fingertips. They spin faster and faster, the fluttering getting louder, the cards casting shadows across the ceiling.

“Holy shit…” Julia whispered as she slowly stood up, watching the cards as they floated back down to stack perfectly in her hand. She turned to Eliot, her face full of conflicting emotions. The same pain she had previously been feeling, along with a newfound wonder at what she just did. “Eliot, I was doing that!”

He turned to look at her, a proud shock filling the features on his face, his eyes brimming with happy tears. “Turns out you aren’t completely human after all, eh?” he said, chuckling. 

Julia laughed softly, tears no longer falling down upon her puffy, red cheeks. “I guess not.”

Eliot pulled the shorter woman close, hugging her tightly. It is good to have the physical comfort of a friend, especially one that has felt and understands the pain of loss. Julia squeezed back, resting her head against his chest, and sighed gently. Although she didn’t have Quentin now, she had Eliot, and that made life a little bit more okay.


End file.
